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not one area in my life that Uncle John did not seem to touch. And that began even before I was born. First, with my mother, then, my father.
    “I’m tired,” I said abruptly. “I’m going to bed.”
    “I’d better be going home then,” Verita said quickly.
    “No,” Bobby said. “You don’t have to go. I’ll sleep on the couch.”
    “Shit, Verita, it’s too late for you to go,” I said.
    “You sure?”
    “Of course I’m sure,” I snapped. “Coke always makes me horny. Come to bed. I want to fuck the ass off you.” I started for the bedroom. When I saw the tears suddenly well up in Bobby’s eyes, I stopped. “What’s with you?”
    “I love you, Gareth,” he wailed. “I want to be your slave. I want you to love me.”
    I put an arm around his shoulders and kissed his cheek. “I love you, Bobby, but not that way. I feel like a big brother to you.”
    He wiped at his eyes. “I never had a brother.”
    “Neither did I.”
    He smiled. “I like that. It’s pure.”
    “Superpure. Like the coke. Now I’m going to bed.”
    Verita followed me into the bedroom about ten minutes later. I couldn’t wait until I got her clothes off. My cock felt as if it were made out of stone. We fucked until I collapsed with exhaustion. But I still didn’t come. Cocaine did that to me. She was asleep almost before I rolled off her. I closed my eyes and zonked.
    It seemed as if I had been asleep for hours when I felt a nuzzling at my balls. Still in the twilight zone, I put my hands in her hair and guided my cock into her mouth. Her mouth was warm and expert. At times I felt as if she were going to swallow me alive. “Oh, baby, you do that so good,” I murmured. Then I exploded. The orgasm seemed to drain all the fluids from my body, leaving me empty and exhausted. A few seconds later I dropped back into a deep sleep.
    I woke up with the sun streaming into my eyes. I began to sit up. She opened her eyes. I bent over and kissed her forehead. “I never knew you could give head like that,” I said. “You blew everything, including my mind.”
    Her eyes widened. “What are you talking about?”
    “Last night.”
    She shook her head.
    I swung my feet off the bed and stepped on his back. He moved away without waking up. Then I put it all together. At first I was angry; then I began to laugh.
    Verita was puzzled. “What is it?”
    I pointed and she looked over the side of the bed at the naked boy. “Oh, Jesus,” she said; then she began to smile.
    “The little bastard ripped me off,” I said.
    “He ripped off both of us. You never came with me.”
    “Damn!” I said.
    “What are you complaining about?” she asked. “You got the best of both worlds.”
    ***
    Bobby drove us into Beverly Hills in his Rolls convertible. I felt like one of the Beverly Hillbillies driving past Nate n’ Al’s and seeing all the New York refugees standing on line, waiting to get in for the Sunday service of lox, cream cheese and bagels.
    When we got to my uncle’s office down the street, we found the building locked. I pressed the call button. A uniformed guard peered through the glass window.
    “Lonergan,” I shouted.
    He nodded and opened the door. “Mr. Brendan?”
    “Yes.”
    “Mr. Lonergan’s expecting you. Penthouse floor.”
    “I’m hungry,” Bobby said. “I’ll be over at the deli.”
    “Okay,” I said and with Verita followed the guard to the elevator. My uncle’s bodyguard was waiting for us. Silently he led us through the corridor to Lonergan’s office and opened the door.
    My uncle was behind his desk and Persky was with him. This was nothing like the Hollywood office. This one smelled of money—silk drapes, thick carpets and a Louis Quinze desk.
    “Good morning,” I said.
    My uncle waved us to chairs in front of his desk and pressed a button. A moment later a man came in the side door, carrying a folder of papers.
    “My attorney, Mark Coler,” my uncle said. “He has all the papers ready. Purchase